


Pickpocket Pirate Party

by astropixie



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Birthday Party, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship Problems, Gen, Han Solo's A+ Parenting, Humor, Loneliness, Young Ben Solo, and being emotionally immature, but trying to do your best, flying lesson, highly psychic ben, if taking your child to a bar is funny, perils of raising a special needs child
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 00:50:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8600617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astropixie/pseuds/astropixie
Summary: When Ben's birthday party falls through, Han organizes a new one with some of his old friends.





	1. Ben's Seventh Birthday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Merricat_Blackwood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merricat_Blackwood/gifts).



“But the kid’s excited to go home, see his friends.”

“I know. I’m sorry, but it’s a bad idea.”

Ben hovered outside the cockpit, staring at blinking panel lights. Listening.

“I know, I know…look, any chance we can arrange something with that senator’s daughter, Cilghal?”

Ben closed his eyes, hoping…

“Senator fish-brains still isn’t speaking with me outside of official meetings, and he’s barely civil in those—“

Ben bit his lip. He missed Cilghal, they hadn’t seen each other in a long time, and it was all his fault. That dumb political dinner for mom’s work. His dad said for his birthday they would see his friends but it looked less and less likely.

“They’re _kids_ , that’s not fair.”

“They’re her _parents_ , it’s their decision.”

Silence.

“What about Chewie? You haven’t seen him in a year.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll send a message.” _Chewie won’t want to see us,_ Han thought, and Ben put hands over his ears against the thought even though it didn’t do any good.  "Hey, where's Luke? What's he doing?"

"I have no idea."

“What about—“ _why doesn’t the kid have more friends—“_ What about the Dameron’s boy, are they available?”

“They are….”

“I hear a ‘but.’”

Leia sighed heavily, a blow of static from systems away. “Poe just lost his mother, I can’t—“

“A birthday party would cheer him up!”

“For another kid, maybe it would.”

They went silent, and Ben numbly started moving back toward his room, when—

“Han—just—just do what you do best.”

“What, you want me to lie to him?”

“It’s better, isn’t it?”

Ben hurried away as quietly as he could, running through the living quarters and blinking furiously as he crawled into his bunk.

No birthday party. No one wanted to see him.

He pulled his blanket over his face, hiding, because he heard his dad approaching, footsteps and mind both heavy. He closed his eyes under the blanket, eyelashes brushing the fabric, as Han poked his head inside the quarters.

_Kid’s asleep…probably pretending to sleep…eh, might really be asleep, let him be…_

Ben felt victorious for two seconds, having fooled his un-foolable father. But then he lowered the blanket to his chest. He didn’t want to be alone.

Blanket wrapped around his shoulders, he walked back to the cockpit.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Han said, ruffling his hair.

Ben winced at the touch but let him do it, then clambered into the co-pilot’s seat. Chewie’s seat.

“Happy birthday,” Han said. _Kid looks sad. Great. He knows, how does he always know?_

Ben smiled at him. “Thank you.”

“Now, uh…” Han rubbed the back of his head, like he always did when he was coming up with a lie. “I know you wanted to go home and have your party there, but I have some work to do. You and me, we’re smugglers together, okay? We’ll make it fun, though. I promise.”

Ben didn’t want to push it and ask “so what’s the cargo this time, Dad?” or confront him to tell the truth. It was pointless, he knew it all, and saying anything would only make his dad lecture him about eavesdropping. Instead, he wondered what desperate Huttese-controlled banking moon or Outer Rim trading outpost they would fly to, and despite his misery he hid a grin as Han started wondering the same thing. His father _never_ took him anywhere child-appropriate, always swearing him to secrecy before seeing Mom again. 

_Lando? No. Chewie…no, can’t just show up with no notice. Somewhere nice. Where is somewhere nice? I gotta at least take him somewhere nice…with some people, and games...I know…_

Han tapped the navicomputer, reaching up and setting the coordinates. “You ever been to Takodana?”

* * *

Ben’s eyes widened as they came out of hyperspace, approaching a green orb shockingly bright against the darkness of space.

Han flicked the controls, powering down the drive. “Your mom can’t find out about this,” he said.  

The green planet got closer and closer. Ben always made a game out of approaching new worlds; he watched as the planet grew larger in all the windows, keeping his eye on one corner of the cockpit for the light of the planet to block out the dark, watching for the last bit of darkness to disappear.

“Ben, you got it? Mom can’t know we were here.”

“I got it,” Ben said, staring up at the window.

Han sighed. _What’s he looking at? How’s he ever supposed to learn to fly if he doesn’t watch?_ “Do you want to take this approach?”

Ben blinked, tearing his gaze from the window. “Can I?”

Han swallowed. _Didn’t think that would work…_ “Sure, you’re old enough.”

Ben gripped the yoke in front of him, feeling the grooves spaced for much, much larger hands.

Han stammered, “Just the atmospheric approach, I’ll take over when we get to twenty thousand feet.”

The ship lurched.

“Fifty-thousand feet.”

Ben guided the ship closer, and Han mostly kept his mouth shut as they hit the atmosphere, a glowing nose of radiation starting in front of them as they descended.

“Slow down, kid, this isn’t a run on the Death Star.”

Ben eased up on the power, and pulled up for a gentler incline downward.

 _Good, maybe we won’t need repairs as well as an impromptu birthday party from Maz_ , Han thought. “Good job.”

Birthday party? How was his dad planning to pull that off? He looked up at Han, who gestured for him to look back at the controls.

 _He’s not watching the speed or the altitude, kid’s going to crash some day…_.“You’re doing great, kid,” Han said aloud.

Ben swallowed and sat back in the chair. “Maybe you should take over.”

“All right.” Han took them down safely, telling him out loud he did a good job, but inwardly cursing and planning to do more lessons _soon_ _before the kid grows up and kills himself_. Ben stared out the windows, taking in all the trees and lakes, trying to think of something to say.

“It’s really green,” Ben said lamely.

Han snorted. “Your Jedi senses tell you that?”

“Yeah, they did,” Ben said right back. He started doing an impression of his Uncle Luke. “’The Force is in all living things, young apprentice, the trees, the plants…especially the green ones...’”

Han chuckled. “All right, all right.”

They set down near a lake with a castle on it. Ben tilted his head, staring. “That’s fancy for a bar.”

Han muttered, “Just like your mother,” and ushered him out of the cockpit to get ready.

The planet _was_ nice. The forest and the glittering lake were far nicer than the usual loud, crowded, dirty spaceport bars Han usually took him to. He wanted to ask to go swimming, but sure enough Han led the way…right to the bar.

He liked the colorful flags and the stones. He looked around, taking it in, and didn’t mind when his dad took his hand, leading him to tall doors. Ben held his head as they went up the stairs toward the doors; there were too many people inside, already filling his mind with alien chatter, random words in Basic and other languages, and it was too much.

“Hey. Kid.” Han knelt in front of him. “You all right?”

Ben rubbed his temple one more time and nodded.

Han made a skeptical face. “You’re not…” he gestured to his own head, “…reading minds again, are you?”

Ben shook his head. For some reason it was always harder to talk when there were a lot of people around, as if he couldn’t handle listening and speaking at the same time. It made it hard to lie if he couldn’t speak. But he learned a while ago he had no choice but to lie about this, Uncle Luke didn’t understand—he didn’t have to try to hear thoughts, he had to try _not_ to hear them.

“I’m not,” Ben said slowly. “It’s—it’s just bright here.”

It was true enough, they had just spend a week aboard the dimly-lit Falcon in deep space. Being on a planet during the day was an adjustment. Han stood, satisfied, and reached for his hand. Ben wanted to protest, he was seven now, but he got away with the lie and didn’t want to try getting away with anything else.

The doors opened, music blasted, and Ben realized he would need to keep lying the entire time they spent here. It was so crowded! He stared at the ground, trying to clear his mind and mostly succeeding, and then—a voice shouted--

“Han Solo!”

Everyone went still, aliens and droids and the band, all staring at them. Ben swallowed, backing away. This was Nal Hutta all over again. Should they run?

Han gripped his hand tight and raised his free hand disarmingly _. It’s Nal Hutta all over again_ , Han thought. “Maz!” he said.

An ancient alien woman approached them, picking her way through the still crowd. Ben felt her in the Force, a durasteel sheet, unyielding and giving away nothing. She looked straight into Ben’s eyes, they were the same height. Her glare, magnified by huge goggles, practically hurt and he had to look away, back to the floor.

“You brought your infant child to my establishment. I’m not surprised,” Maz said. She waved to the band, bracelets on her arms jingling with the movement. “Keep playing!”

The patrons all went back to their drinks, games, and chatter. Ben pulled at his dad’s hand as he took a step back. Han stood firm.

Maz adjusted her goggles and crossed her arms. “If he’s not drinking, he has to leave.”

Ben wordlessly turned to leave, relieved and hurt at the same time. Han caught him by the shoulders and whirled him to face Maz again; Ben stared at the beer-stained floor.

“Maz. Come on. It’s his birthday. I thought, what would be a nice place—“

“You’re the one who reserved the Sabacc table for a birthday?” Maz threw her wrinkled hands in the air and gestured for them to follow her further into the bar. “A Sabacc game for a three-year-old’s birthday—“

“I’m seven,” Ben corrected.

“Three, seven…Child, I once had a rash that lasted for longer than your existence. Where’s my boyfriend?” Maz barked.

 _He’s not here?_ Han rubbed the back of his head as they sat down around the cards table, opposite two Rodians and an ancient droid. “Right. Chewie is home, spending some time with his family.”

Ben tried to show nothing on his face as he realized his father had called Chewie to meet them here but didn’t arrive.

“Hmmph.” Maz pressed a button on the table and a hologram glowed bright. “Here is your game, I’ll bring you some food.”

Ben scooched his chair closer to Han as he overheard the Rodian girl, not much older than him, mentally planning to pickpocket the two humans.

“It’s been a long time, Garo,” Han said, reaching over the table through the hologram to shake the Rodian man’s hand. “And your daughter, Fera. Good to see you. Have you met my son, Ben?”

Ben shook their hands, not at all surprised that his father knew them.

So this was his birthday party—some smugglers at a bar and a droid that didn’t speak or seem to know either the Rodians or his father, but put its own deck of Sabacc cards down on the table, clearly ready to play.

Ben sighed and got out his own deck. It was at least some sort of party. And he knew Han had tried, he heard the short list of his friends and knew they were busy, Chewie too. This would do.  

“No betting,” Maz said, appearing out of nowhere, reaching up with a large glass of milk and a platter of fruit. “Ben and Fera are the scoundrels of scoundrels but they are too young to gamble. I’ll ban you all.”

Garo objected and Han said “But Maz—“

“I will. I will ban all of you. You as well, L-58.”

The ancient droid’s optical sensors dimmed and brightened again; Ben couldn’t tell if it was a temporary power loss or an emotional reaction.

They played a few hands. At first Ben blamed his headache and distraction when Fera kept winning, but he realized she had a card field manipulator that Maz would probably ban. He put his cards down and excused himself to use the bathroom.

Maz intercepted him and thrust a drink in his face. He stepped away from her and her too-intense eyes.

“Drink this. Migraines are for the old, you’re too young.”

He glanced up at her and the metal cup. It was steaming. “What is it?”

“My hangover cure.”

Ben drank it down—it was like a sweet tea. “Dad can’t know about my headache.”

“And your father can’t know you had a hangover cure.” Maz took the cup back and considered. “Or your mother. In fact, don’t ever tell her you were here.”

Ben felt much better the rest of the afternoon, and even won a hand (after Garo made Fera turn off the field manipulator.) Han kept looking toward the door, expecting Chewie. Ben wished he would stop; his father’s hopes raised his own hopes, but he knew Chewie wasn’t coming. This little birthday was it.

 _Guess he’s really not coming. Let’s do this_. “Presents!” his father said. “Let’s do presents.”

 _Presents?_ Garo asked. He conferred quickly with Fera. 

"It's okay, you don't need--" Han started to say, but Garo waved him off, insisting that they had something. Han ordered more drinks while they huddled on their side of the table. 

The presents from Garo included dice and an incomplete deck of old sabacc cards, along with a hastily reclaimed blaster round that had also been hidden up his sleeve. Fera, it turned out, had been busily pickpocketing the entire bar. She presented him with a small pile of credits, comlinks, and what looked like one of Maz’s shimmering bracelets.

Ben stared at the pile, not sure what to say.

Han watched him, worried. _Pile of crap….but he knows to be polite…_ “What do you say, kid?”

Ben burst out laughing, laughing hard until his side hurt. “I love it!”

Garo chittered in relief and Fera hugged Ben tight. 

While she was sitting down again, Ben patted his pants pocket and whispered to Han, “She took my comlink.”

Han gestured down. “Well, you have five new ones.”

“Dad...”

Han grinned and rubbed his hands together. “My turn. Ben, I…I know if gets lonely traveling around and being at your mom’s work all the time, so I…what do you think of L-58?”

Ben looked at the old droid, who winked one optical sensor at him.

“I don’t know,” Ben said.

Han’s face stayed the same but his thoughts started spiraling— _he hates the stupid droid, this was a bad idea_ —

“He’s okay at sabacc,” Ben added.

Han beamed. “Well, I had Maz locate him for us, and…he’s yours.”

A droid. He didn’t have any real friends, so his dad had to buy one for him. Ben forced a smile, trying to feel happy about having a new friend and not think about how obvious it was that he was weird and couldn’t keep any friends-- “Thanks, Dad.”

They started packing up to leave. Ben reflected on the afternoon of smugglers and pirates playing cards in a bar, complete with stolen presents. It had been an okay day. He couldn’t tell mom about any of it, but it was a good day.

Except for the droid. L-58 followed them out of Maz’s bar on slow, skeletal legs, moving in a way that creeped him out, and while part of him shamefully _did_ want this artificial friend, another part of him was more embarrassed that his parents _knew_ how lonely he was and how it was _entirely his fault_ —he thought he was better at hiding how visits with friends really went, but apparently not. And L-58 would always remind him of that.

They were nearly to the door when they heard a loud Wookie roar. Ben didn’t look up; he didn’t dare hope, because it probably wasn’t Chewie---

But he felt it in the Force that it _was_ Chewie, and he looked up, and the familiar soft face roared down at him in greeting and he was swept up in huge, hairy arms, laughing.

“Any excuse to see me,” Maz shouted up from the floor, and Chewie chuffed in agreement. When Chewie moved to put Ben down, Ben clung to his neck. Chewie made a noise of surprise and held on.

“Thanks, old friend,” Han muttered.

“Can I tell mom about this part?” Ben asked.

Chewie laughed at Han, berating him for not being able to pull together a better birthday party for a seven-year-old in a more appropriate location.

“Hey,” Han said. “Ben had a great day, right?”

Ben hugged Chewie tighter. “I did.”


	2. Epilogue: Ben's Fifteenth Birthday

“Uncle Luke says to use the Force for defense, never for attack.”

“Well, your Uncle Luke isn’t here, and right now I need some _defense_ from losing all our credits.”

 Ben rolled his eyes. “I’ll do it. For fifty percent.”

“You’ll do it because I’m your father.”

“Fine. Twenty percent.”

“Kid, if your mother hears you were hustling me in a Sabacc game—“

“Twenty-five so I don’t tell mom.”

Chewie growled that he could tell, too.

“And another five percent for Chewie.”

Chewie nodded appreciatively. 

“That’s my boy.” Han shook his head. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, Merricat_Blackwood wanted to see a Ben birthday party. 
> 
> Needless to say my first thought about that was "no one would show up" and my second thought was "why do I make everything so sad?" My third thought was "I can fix this" and this story happened. Thank you for egging me on, you are the best <3


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